


Human Again

by Cheeseanonioncrisps



Category: What we do in the shadows
Genre: Gen, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-17 13:26:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheeseanonioncrisps/pseuds/Cheeseanonioncrisps
Summary: Disclaimer: I am not from New Zealand and don't really know anyone who is, so there's a lot of stuff I don't know. If I have the characters do or say anything that sounds really hideously wrong to any of you who might actually be from New Zealand, please feel free to correct me in the comments.Also thanks to everyone who's given kudos so far.





	1. So, I pissed off a witch...

"Hey, what's a good rhyme for 'hate'?"  
"Hmm... Date, great, late, abate... devastate?"  
"Ah, thank you."  
"Another poem for The Beast?" Viago asked, looking up from his lute.  
Vladislav nodded. "I think it's my best yet." he paused. "Do you think I should sign it in blood?"  
Viago shrugged. "Bit of a waste. And it never looks as impressive as you think it's going to."  
"You're right." He signed it in ink instead, taking the time to make his signature appropriately elaborate. After a moment's deliberation, he decided against dotting the 'i' with a skull, on the grounds that that probably would be a bit much. "Do you want to hear it? I'd like to get a second opinion— make sure it properly conveys my intense hatred and loathing."  
Viago sighed. "Alright. But make it quick— it's nearly morning, and I haven't even closed all the curtains. Hey, speaking of which, is Deacon back yet?"  
"No."  
"Odd. He's not normally out this early. I hope nothing's wrong."  
"He'll be fine. I think he said he was meeting Stu and the pack, and you know how weird those guys get about not killing anyone while you're out with them. He probably had to stop for a bite on the way home." As if on cue, they heard the front door open. "See, he's back already." He paused and sniffed the air. "Hang on, is there someone with him? I smell blood. Living blood."  
Viago sniffed too. "Seriously?" he frowned. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to bring victims home at this close to dawn. What if one of them escaped into the sunlight and we couldn't get them back? They could tell people we are vampires! We had a whole flat meeting where we agreed this. It's one of the house rules! I made a _chart!"_  
"Well don't tell me, tell him. Go downstairs and tell him to get rid of it. Perhaps he's just got a new familiar."  
Viago shook his head and left the room, muttering under his breath about house rules and the importance of maintaining secrecy and "why do I bother anyway if people aren't going to listen?" Vladislav started reading over his poem again.

_"I point towards you all my hate,_ _  
You are the one I'll devastate."_

Something about it just didn't sound quite right. He'd have to ask Viago once he'd finished dealing with Deacon and whoever it was he'd brought home. Viago was always better at this sort of thing— probably it came from having been a dandy. Just as he was thinking this, he heard a yell from below. "Bloody hell! _DEACON?!"_ He tossed the poem aside and ran to see what was the matter, flying down the stairs so as not to waste time walking.

Viago and Deacon were standing at the bottom, Viago looking even paler than usual, Deacon looking... surprisingly well. Better than Vladislav could ever remember him looking. His pallor was gone, and his cheeks had actual colour in them. He looked around. There was nobody else in the room, yet the smell of fresh blood was stronger than ever, making his mouth water and his throat ache. He looked again at Deacon. His jaw dropped. "Wait, you're– you're a..."  
Deacon grinned, a little sheepishly, and shrugged. "So... I kind of pissed off a witch." The teeth he bared were a lot smaller and flatter than usual.

***  
"What do you mean, you 'pissed off a witch'?" Viago asked, once he and Vladislav had recovered from the shock, and they had all gathered in the kitchen for an emergency flat meeting. "What happened?"  
"Well, I was walking back from town," Deacon explained, "hoping I might find somebody to eat on the way, since _the wolves_ wouldn't let me eat anyone at the club."  
"They're so sensitive about that." Vladislav said. "Honestly, we let _them_ get snacks."  
Deacon nodded. "Anyway, so I passed this witch on the way and she recognised me from the Unholy Masquerade. So we got to talking about what happened, and things got a little... heated. Turns out she liked that guy who was with The Beast, and then she started saying all this stuff about Stu. So then I said some stuff back and she just freaked out and turned me into a human." he shrugged. "You know witches, no sense of humour."  
Vladislav raised one eyebrow. "What exactly did you say, though?"  
"Well... I kind of called her a hideous old hag who was the offspring of a dog with three heads and a serpent with two tails, which was itself the offspring of the sexual intercourse between a five legged cow, a plague of frogs and, like, a really ugly ferret, which was _itself_ the offspring of—"  
"So she's probably not going to be turning you back then."  
"Probably not. Witches can never take a joke." he yawned, once again giving both his friends a view of his noticeably human teeth.  
Viago suppressed a shudder— Deacon without fangs just looked _unnatural_. "Maybe we should sleep on it." he suggested. "It's nearly daylight. Let's all just go to bed and then we can decide what to do tomorrow, when we're not all so tired and we have more time." he shot a hopeful look at Deacon. "Maybe it'll have worn off by then, ja? Maybe it's one of those spells that ends at sunset."  
"Maybe." Deacon didn't sound as optimistic, but he stood up anyway. "Good morning then."  
"Good morning." they both called as he left the room and made his way upstairs, Viago adding "Sweet dreams!"  
He stood up himself and began shutting the curtains, flinching when he saw that the sky was already turning orange. "Shit. Can you help me with this Vlad? I'm never going to get them all done on time otherwise."  
"Just leave them open then. It's not like anybody sleeps down here anyway. Good morning."  
"Good morning! See you in the evening!" Viago called after him, still trying to get the curtains arranged so no that no light could peek through. Just as he'd got them perfect, there was a scream from upstairs. Followed by a crash, and then a lot of swearing— some of it in English.  
He ran into the hallway, to find Vladislav standing frozen at the bottom of the stairs. They both stared at each other.  
"Doesn't..." Vladislav paused, and they both listened as the swearing switched between what sounded like about four languages over all, only two of which Viago understood. "Doesn't Deacon usually sleep... upside down?"  
"Shit."  
Viago ran up the stairs. Above him, Vladislav flew on ahead, sounding like he was only just managing not to laugh.


	2. Well one of you is going to have to bite me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not from New Zealand and don't really know anyone who is, so there's a lot of stuff I don't know. If I have the characters do or say anything that sounds really hideously wrong to any of you who might actually be from New Zealand, please feel free to correct me in the comments.
> 
> Also thanks to everyone who's given kudos so far.

The problem of where Deacon was going to sleep took a while to sort out, not least because by this point everybody was exhausted. It soon became clear that he was not going to be able to stay in his cupboard— "not unless we clean out some of this crap" Vladislav said, gesturing to the various pieces of junk that had accumulated there over the past several decades. Deacon made the best attempt at a hiss he could manage with human vocal chords.  
To cheer him up, Vlad offered up his torture chamber. "I have some leg manacles in there. We could hang you from the ceiling."  
Viago shook his head. "I don't think that's healthy for humans. What about a coffin?"  
"I'd need air holes." Deacon said, sounding completely disgusted with the very concept.  
"We could drill some!"  
"Not in one of my spare coffins you can't." Vladislav said quickly. "You know how hard those are to get hold of!"  
In the end, Viago reluctantly suggested one of his antique couches, and though Deacon complained— "it's too short for my legs! I can never get comfy when I'm horizontal!"— he grudgingly admitted that he didn't have a better idea.  
By this point, the sun was up completely, almost singing Viago through a chink in his bedroom curtains. He quickly got into his own coffin, closing the lid on top of him. As he waited to fall asleep, he hoped again that Deacon's spell would reverse itself at sunset. Apart from anything else, his couch cushions were probably going to end up out of order, and he'd spent a while last night arranging them.

***

Deacon's spell had not reversed itself by sunset. Nor had the headache he got when he hit the floor. Needless to say, he was not happy about this.

His bad mood did not improve when Nick came over, looking for Stu, and fell about laughing for about ten minutes straight when he heard what had happened. Or when several of the werewolves showed up, summoned by Nick's text, and also fell about laughing— Nathan and Declan becoming so hysterical that they nearly transformed.  
"Alright, alright," Anton said quickly, "calm down guys, calm down. Count to ten, human again— come on, remember what happened last time we lost it in front of a human."  
"And please try not to scratch the furniture!" Viago added. He and the other vampires were standing at the edge of the room, as far away from the wolves and as close to the open window as they could get. The pack were... alright, and didn't shed or urinate on things nearly as often as they'd expected them to, but in a large group in a small enclosed space, they could be a bit overpowering.

"At least I can't smell you guys anymore." Deacon said. "Is this why you say you don't notice it? Do you all just have pathetic human noses?"  
"Thanks Deacon." Anton rolled his eyes.  
"Actually, for your information," Declan added, "werewolves have an incredibly sensitive sense of smell— better than vampires."  
"And you use it to sniff your own crotches?!"  
"I _told_ you, we sniff _each other's—"_  
"Mate," Anton said through gritted teeth, "we talked about this. He's just trying to get to you. Which is pretty stupid," he added in a louder voice, "considering that now he's not a vampire we are totally capable of _infecting him_ if we lose it in here. Though I suppose at least you wouldn't be a human anymore."  
Deacon made a face. "Urgh, no thanks. Better even to be a human than to be a stinking mongr–"  
"Where's Stu?" Viago asked quickly.  
"He's coming." Anton said, "He texted me, said he was stopping on the way for a bite to eat."  
"Oh, so _Stu_ is allowed to have a bite?"  
"We've been through this Deacon. We're perfectly okay with your... lifestyle, or whatever— we're not judgemental about it— but we'd just prefer it if you didn't kill people in front of us."  
"You nearly killed Stu on front of us," Vladislav pointed out. "And... I think a cameraman died?" he turned to Viago and muttered, "Did one of the cameramen die?" Viago nodded. "Yeah," Vladislav continued at normal volume, "so you killed one of our camera guys. In front of us all. Which was very... very sad. For all of us. So it's only fair to let us hunt in front of you."  
"Exactly." Deacon said. "I am just saying, if you guys had let me eat that girl in the club, I wouldn't have tried walking home and I wouldn't have run into that witch. So this is basically your fault."  
Cries of protest from the werewolves. "Hey, steady on mate," Anton said, "I'm sorry you're stuck like this, but you can't blame us. We just don't like watching people get killed."  
"And Steve was trying to get off with her." Nathan added, "Which would have been a bit hard if she was already dead of a gaping neck wound."  
"Yeah. Bros before breakfast mate."

"Speaking of breakfast," Anton added, clearly keen to change the subject, "are you still okay living here now you're a human?" he lowered his voice, "Aren't you worried the others might..."  
"Don't be silly, Anton." Viago said, "We're not eating him! It's _Deacon."_  
"Yeah." Vladislav looked offended. "He fucks dogs and, as far as I know, hasn't bathed in eighty years. I'm not putting that anywhere near my mouth."  
Nick nodded. "We do have standards mate."  
"You fuck dogs?" Anton said incredulously.  
Deacon ignored him. "Well one of you is going to have to bite me! How else will I change back into a vampire?"  
"You _fuck_ dogs?!"  
"I suppose... I could do it." Viago said, looking like he'd rather go sunbathing. "I mean, if there's no other way..."  
"So like the crotch sniffing thing is somehow weird and perverted, whereas you fucking dogs is completely fine?!"                 "Hey! Werewolves, not—"                                                                                                                                            "Not right now Neil."  
"No thanks." Deacon said, still ignoring Anton, "I'm looking to end up undead, not splattered all over the furniture."  
"Hey!" Viago protested, "It doesn't always end up like that! I transformed Katherine alright."  
"Yes, I saw her neck wound. You missed the main artery by millimetres. Face it Viago, you're a cool guy, but you can't aim."  
"He has got a point." Vladislav said. "Your victims do tend to end up... splattered everywhere."  
"Not all over the furniture! That's why I put down towels!"  
"Sorry," Deacon conceded, "you're right, you do put down towels. I'm just not sure how comforting that would be if I ended up bleeding to death." he shrugged. "Nick?"  
"I dunno mate. You are a bit of a dickhead. I'm not sure I want you to be a vampire again. Why should I bite you?"  
"Well I mean, if _Petyr_ were here, I would ask him."  
"You're still going on about that!"  
"If you mean you luring a vampire hunter into our flat and letting him kill my friend, then yes."  
"It's not like he wasn't my friend as well."  
"Some friend. He lasted eight thousand years, then you finished him off in two months!"  
Nick hissed and flew off the ground. Deacon thought for a second, then climbed up onto the coffee table and hissed back. Vladislav and Viago quickly moved forward.  
"Come on man, it's not fair if he's a human."  
"Deacon! That's an antique!"  
"So am I!" Still, Deacon got off the table, and a moment later Nick lowered himself back to the ground. The resulting awkward silence was broken when Stu walked in with a bag of chips.  
"Sorry." he said, "The door was open. Wow." He stopped when he saw Deacon. "You're really a human now?"  
"It would appear so. A witch cursed me."  
"Sucks." He held out the bag. "Fancy a chip?"

 


End file.
